


Mistletoe Kiss

by aeriie



Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Gingerbread House, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29081802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriie/pseuds/aeriie
Summary: A collection of My Candy Love Christmas drabbles.
Relationships: Candy/Castiel (My Candy Love), Candy/Evan (My Candy Love), Candy/Lysander (My Candy Love), Candy/Nathaniel (My Candy Love), Candy/Rayan (My Candy Love)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

“A cosmopolitan, please.”

My fingertips tap against the shiny counter top, and the bartender nods, turning away to fix my drink. I pull my loose hair to the side, over one shoulder, and make myself comfortable on one of the bar stools.

It’s only moderately busy in the Snake Room tonight, most people probably spending the evening at home with their families and friends. The staff have really outdone themselves, I think as I glance around at the decorations through jaded eyes.

Mini Christmas trees, green and gold baubles, fake snow. I could almost admire the effort if it didn’t remind me how utterly alone I am for the holidays.

The bartender sets my drink in front of me, and I thank her with a tight smile, taking a long sip of the cocktail before swirling the drink with the small straw absentmindedly.

I stare into the gloom behind the bar vacantly, thinking of everything and nothing. Wondering how I got to the point of drinking by myself, entirely alone, on Christmas Eve.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

I almost jump at the deep voice in my ear, and when I turn it’s to find Castiel staring down at me, his red hair tousled and tiny flakes of snow settled on his shoulders.

“Mind if I join you?”

A small smile lifts my lips, even as my face warms at the sight of him. “Not at all.”

He slides onto the bar stool beside me, and I can already see a trio of girls eyeing him off on his other side. They probably have the same questions I do.

Why is Castiel alone on Christmas Eve?

“So, what are you doing here?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink and biting down on the straw nervously. The last time I had seen him was in the infirmary, dressed in my ridiculous cat pyjamas…

I blush at the memory.

“Escaping,” He says through a tired sigh, signalling the woman behind the bar for a drink. “My parents are in town, and the one thing that never changes is the amount of time I can spend with them before losing my mind.”

I make a face at him. I know for a fact that Castiels’ parents are lovely, but he never has been fond of spending time with them, preferring his own company.

The bartender sets a glass of amber liquid down in front of him, and he takes a long swig, almost downing the entire contents. When he turns to me next, he looks a little more relaxed.

“How about you?”

“Escaping my empty dorm room.” My smile is almost cynical, my eyes dark. “My parents are travelling, my roommate is with family… I found myself quite lonely in that room.”

The way he looks at me makes me realize that he understands, and I can’t deny that whenever I’m around Castiel I feel something… warm. Something that maybe I shouldn’t be feeling, given our past.

“Well, since we’re both here alone,” he stands and turns to me, a dark eyebrow arched in question. “How about a game of pool?”

My stomach tightens, and I duck my head a little to hide the blush I know is spreading over my cheeks, looking up at him through dark lashes.

“Sure.”

*

A few drinks in and I’m leaning over the pool table, cue in hand and the tinkle of laughter bubbling on my lips.

The fact that Castiel is snickering across the table at me isn’t helping anything, and I give him a mock glare before balancing the cue over my thumb.

I take the shot, missing my intended ball completely, and drop my head against the green felted table in utter defeat, groaning. “Whose idea was it to play this game again?”

He laughs, his voice deep and warm, while I grumble to myself. When I finally look at him, he’s shaking his head at me in amusement. I try to keep my eyes from wandering over his bare arms. It’s so warm in here now, that he’s stripped off both his coat and the hoodie under that, now dressed in only a tight, black t-shirt and ripped jeans.

“How are you so terrible at this?” A chuckle falls from his lips, though I give him only an impatient look in reply, well and truly fed up with the game.

Castiel, obviously taking pity on me, attempts to suppress his amusement by pressing his mouth in a tight line. His eyes give away nothing, and when my own narrow on him he cracks, and says with a laugh.

“Here, let me show you.”

It takes only a second for him to round the table and come up behind me. My breath staggers a little as he leans into me, using one hand to position my fingers under the cue, while the other is steadying my elbow.

I’m barely listening to a word he’s saying. All I can concentrate on is the scent of him, deep and musky, and the feeling of his body against mine.

“Candy?”

My name on his lips brings me back to my senses, and I take the shot. The ball I hit doesn’t quite make it to the pocket, but it’s close. Much closer than earlier, anyway.

“Not too bad,” He says, his breath warm against my skin. When he pulls away I immediately miss his the heat of his body.

“Now you try.”

I attempt the same position, but I hadn’t been listening to a word he said earlier. So I draw my elbow back, trying to keep my arm straight. Following the movement through, my cue strikes the ball.

And…

Shit.

I sunk the black.

“I guess that’s that,” Castiel chuckles under his breath, and I push against his arm playfully, feigning my annoyance.

“I should probably head home anyway,” I say with a sigh through my nose, picking up my handbag and coat from the chair I’d left them on earlier.

“I’ll walk you.”

Castiel shrugs his hoodie on and grabs his black wool coat from the back of a chair. I’m surprised it’s still there to be honest. The same girls have been eyeing us all night, and I’d almost expected them to swipe it as a token.

We chat and laugh together all the way to the exit, him tickling my side playfully, and I smile to myself. He’s a little drunk. I can tell by the red flushed over his face, but he looks happy.

I suppose I am too.

A blast of cold air hits me as I push through the door and out into the street. It’s snowing. Tiny, crystal snowflakes drift through the air, falling softly onto the sidewalk around me.

“Candy,” Castiel is still behind me, and I feel him draw me back by the elbow so we’re hovering in the doorway of the bar, his hands on either side of my arms. My eyes flicker over his quirked lips, confused.

“Look up.”

I follow his gaze, glancing to the doorway above us where there hangs a perfectly placed sprig, tied with a red ribbon.

Mistletoe.

I could almost laugh. In fact I do, a little, despite the rhythm that’s now thumping in my chest.

“I didn’t think you would partake in such traditions,” I tease him, my voice soft and my breath releasing in uneven puffs of air.

He looks at me in a way I haven’t seen in a long, long time, and my body floods with warmth.

“Only when there’s someone I want to partake in them with.”

And then he kisses me, and the world turns upside down.

My head spins slowly. His mouth is warm and gentle, and tastes like spiced rum. I tilt my chin up to deepen the kiss, and his arms curve around my waist, enveloping me in his warmth.

It’s only a few seconds before he pulls back and grins at me, the familiar spark of bright mischief in his eyes.

And I can’t help but smile back at him, my heart light. Because it’s Christmas Eve, and now I know.

I’m not alone.


	2. Gingerbread House

I let out a frustrated sigh, glancing over the time on my phone.  
  
 **7.24 p.m.**  
  
Has it really been only twenty four minutes since I sat down to work on my thesis? _Surely it’s been longer than that…_  
  
I spin around in my chair a little, the end of my pencil poised against my lips. I know this is the perfect time to crack down and get my work done. After all, I have the dormitory to myself for the entire Christmas break.  
  
I should be reveling in the peace and quiet.  
  
However, it’s Christmas Eve, and I can’t stop myself from thinking that maybe I should be doing something a little more… _festive_. Just for tonight, at least.  
  
Shuffling over to the mini fridge I keep next to my bed, I swing open the door and sniff through the contents. A couple of half eaten candy bars, left over Chinese food from dinner last night. Oh! There’s still an unopened bottle of wine from the party we had a while ago.  
  
 _What could be more festive than booze?_  
  
I dig around my desk for a glass, searching among the papers and notebooks, finding only a couple of plastic cups instead. I shrug, and pour myself a drink anyway.  
  
It’s not like there’s anyone here to judge me.  
  
Sliding a CD into the tray, I push play, turning up the volume and sitting cross-legged against the end of the bed with my plastic cup of wine.  
  
I take a deep sip from my cup, letting my head lean back against my bedspread, attempting to enjoy myself. After a few minutes, my nose crinkles.  
 _  
This still doesn’t feel right somehow…_  
  
There’s a knock on the door to distract me from my thoughts. Before I can get up to open it, it swings open, and Nath walks in, throwing a thumb back over his shoulder. _What the…_  
  
“You really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked, you know.”  
  
He shuts the door behind him softly and strolls in like he owns the bloody place, and I stare at him incredulously.  
  
“Nath! You shouldn’t be walking through random, unlocked doors.”  
  
He grins, and there’s something so wild and sexy about it that makes my heart beat faster. I bite down on my lip and he rakes his eyes over me, his lips quirking when they land on the sight of my wine cup.  
  
“Looks like _some_ party.”  
  
When I roll my eyes at him, he only chuckles, deep and low, and hands over the box he’s carrying under his arm.  
  
“I though you might want some company.”  
  
I study the package he’s just given me, confused.  
  
 _A gingerbread house?_  
  
Seeing the look of utter confusion on my face, he says, amused.  
  
“I didn’t want to come empty handed. So I grabbed the first thing I could find.”  
  
Glancing over the packaging in my hands, something inside me feels lighter. _I haven’t made one of these since I was a kid!_  
  
“Here, I brought this too,” He hands over a bottle of red wine, and I grin at him.  
  
 _Now that’s more like it._  
  
Something in me sobers up, and I look over him. He’s hanging his jacket over the back of my chair, shaking tiny, crystal snowflakes from his hair. When he sits down across from me, his legs spread out in front of him, my eyes narrow.  
  
“What are you doing here?” I ask again, and something on his face goes tight.  
  
“I told you. I thought you might want some company.”  
  
“You don’t have anywhere better to be?”  
  
“Where else is better than here?”  
  
I roll my eyes, but can’t help the smile that slides onto my face. Despite his reasons, I am happy that he showed up. Truly.  
  
“What about Amber? Shouldn’t you be spending Christmas with her…”  
  
His eyes shift to the side, his mouth tightening in a line.  
  
“She has… other plans.”  
  
His knuckles flex at his sides, and I decide I’m not even going to ask about the rest of his family. I still don’t even know if they’re a part of his life. It wouldn’t be appropriate to ask.  
  
Suddenly, it occurs to me that’s he’s probably just as alone tonight as I am, and my suspicions loosen at the thought.  
  
I push myself up to pour him a cup full of wine, and he holds my eyes for a few seconds longer than normal. My stomach flitters as I break the look first.  
  
And I find myself thinking that while his visit was unexpected, it most certainly isn’t unwelcome.  
  
“I hope you know I fully expect you to build this gingerbread house with me.”  
  
He raises his eyebrows at me, before shrugging his shoulders in resignation and throwing me a smile.  
  
“I guess I should’ve expected that.”  
  
*  
An hour later and my head is buzzing from wine, sugar, and… maybe something else entirely.  
  
I’m doubled over in laughter, clutching at my stomach which has started to ache from the amusement. The roof of the gingerbread house has fallen apart for about the tenth time, and we’re ready to give up on it entirely. Nath throws a gumdrop at me and I squeal before popping it in my mouth, chewing happily as I look him over.  
  
 _My god, he looks so fucking tempting._ His hair is tousled, his face flushed from the wine. _It almost makes me want to…_  
  
I give another dismal laugh as I look over our creation. We’ve made an absolute mess. There’s icing on the carpet, on my jeans, and I think even in my hair. Sweets are scattered over the floor, and I think we spent so much time eating them instead of building that we’re both giddy from the sugar high.  
  
Nath nibbles on the edge of what looks like was supposed to be a gingerbread door, before throwing it back into the heap.  
  
“This was fun,” He says, his eyes warm, and I agree with a stupid grin.  
  
I can’t look away from him, and he doesn’t either, our attention fixed solely on each other. I set my cup on the floor, and next thing I know I’m on my hands and knees, crawling over the carpet towards him and his absolutely demonic smirk.  
  
When I’m kneeling between his legs, my hands on his knees and our faces so close that our noses almost touch, his face turns somber.  
  
“You’re not going to kiss a thug, are you?”  
  
My eyes flick between his eyes and lips, judging his reaction. He wets his lips with his tongue in response, and something inside me pulses in anticipation.  
  
“So what if I am?”  
  
“Dad would be so disappointed.”  
  
My voice is a breath, my heart pounding fast. Hadn’t I wanted this from the first time I laid eyes on him again?  
  
“I don’t care.”  
  
He takes my chin between his fingers, forcing me to look at him long and hard.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
I don’t say anything. Instead, my hands run over his shoulders and I perch myself over him, straddling him on either side of his waist, his knees bent behind me.  
  
He doesn’t complain, which only emboldens me more. He only slides his hands up my back, under my shirt, his fingers dancing over the softness of my skin.  
  
I smirk to myself a little. He has icing on his cheek, and when I lean in to lick it off he stills, a quirk to the corner of his lips. I pull back, his golden eyes meeting mine. _Slow, teasing_. This time he leans forward, placing a feather light kiss on my neck.  
  
He presses another kiss to my skin, and I let out a soft sigh. My body tingles all over, and it’s so warm in his arms that I never want to leave. I tilt my head back, letting him scatter kisses over my neck, my shoulders, my chest.  
  
When I thread a hand through his golden hair, it takes only a moment before his mouth is on mine. He tastes like sugar and ginger, and I’m already high on both.  
  
“You’re so fucking sweet, I could eat you up.”  
  
He whispers against my neck, and I bite down on my lip to stop the whimper that threatens to escape. His arms are around me and he pushes me back, pressing me down into the carpeted floor while he hovers above me, leaning down to catch my lips with his again.   
  
My head is spinning, my heart pounding. I want more. I want all of him, and nothing else.  
  
“You’re a mess,” He says against my lips, his breath warm. “Maybe you should take a shower.”  
  
“Come with me?” I’m surprised at my boldness, but I don’t regret the words that slip from my mouth. In fact, I’m quite encouraged by them.  
  
“I thought you’d never ask,” He grins, and I’m quick to start undressing him, my mouth hungry and desperate on his.  
  
 _Merry Christmas to me…_


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Past

My feet crunch over small mounds of frosty snow, made hard on the sidewalk by the dozens of footsteps to trample it before me.  
  
I pull my phone from my pocket as I quicken my pace, and glance over Rosalyas’ last text message.  
  
 ** _I can’t wait to give you your present!_**  
  
With a smile, I pocket my phone and shake my head. Gift giving has always been a favorite of Rosas’. The bag hanging from my shoulder contains small presents for each of my friends, and I hitch it tighter against me as I approach Rosalya and Leighs apartment.  
  
They had invited me to their place for Christmas Eve dinner. Alexy and Morgan would be there too. It was a little off-putting knowing I’d be the only single one there, but that’s the way it is I suppose.  
  
I’m late, which is bad form, I know. I wanted to get in a last minute workout at the gym before stuffing myself with Rosas’ cooking. She’d sent me various pictures of her preparation during the day. Ham, potatoes, desserts. I knew she’d be pulling out all the stops, and everything truly looked delicious.  
  
I’m greeted by the flash of silver hair and Rosas’ bright smile when I knock on the door, and she ushers me into the warmth of the apartment with a squeal.  
  
“You’re here!”  
  
I give her an amused look. She seems awfully excited, even more than usual. She takes my bag and sets it down, before she slips behind me and covers my eyes with her hands. The smell of her cooking washes over me, and my mouth waters.  
  
“I didn’t have time to wrap your gift,” Her voice is soft and warm against my ear, and I can smell the rosewater scent of her shampoo. ‘I hope you like it.“  
  
She sounds so excited I can’t help but laugh, a light tinkle of a noise. My eyelids flutter against her hands and she pushes me further into the apartment, and I have no choice but to trust her guidance.  
  
“No peeking!”  
  
When we round the corner, she drops her hands. The brightness of the festively decorated apartment floods my eyes, and I take a second to adjust to the light.  
  
“Merry Christmas, you two!”  
  
My heart stops at the sight of him. My blood turning to ice in my veins.  
  
He stands in the kitchen, a bottle of champagne poised in one hand, his green and gold eyes widening in surprise as they fall on me.  
  
 _Lysander._  
  
I glance at Rosa beside me, my eyebrows dipped in alarm. Her smile is bright, encouraging.  
  
She really has no idea…  
  
And how could she. I’ve kept my feelings to myself all these long years. The pain of my break up with Lysander. The absolute heartbreak of living without him for so long. Being back in this place, in this town, where everything reminds me of him and the memories we shared.  
  
I look at him again, and I try to steel myself against the overwhelming emotions. I try to turn myself to ice and stone, to keep my heart from feeling, to keep my face from moving.  
  
 _But I can’t do it._  
  
My face crumbles. A small, broken noise cracks from me, and I’m done for.  
  
I hadn’t let myself imagine it. The moment I would see him again. It was bound to happen, I knew that much.  
  
 _I never expected it to hurt like this._  
  
My legs have already given out. The carpet cushioning the impact as I sink to my knees. My last sight before I bury my face in my hands is of Lysander rounding the kitchen counter towards me.  
  
I can’t stop the heartbroken sobs that overcome me, covering my face as the past crashes into me in waves and waves of seething pain. _It’s too much, I can’t take it, I need to leave…_  
  
“Candy…”  
  
Gently, he pulls my hands away from my face. The sight of him kneeling in front of me is enough to set off a fresh wave of tears, and he takes my cheeks in his hands, brushing them away with his thumbs, so softly.  
  
I faintly hear Alexy somewhere behind me, though his voice sounds strange and faraway.  
  
“Oh, Rosa. Now look what you’ve done.”  
  
“I didn’t think… ”  
  
“No. You _didn’t_ think,” Lysander says, a bite to his voice I haven’t heard in a long time.  
  
He puts his hands under my elbows, steadying me as he helps me to my feet.  
  
“Let’s talk alone,” His breath is in my ear, and I do nothing but let him lead me to the glass sliding door and onto the back balcony.  
  
I hug my arms around me, warding off the chill in the air. The tears on my face turn cold and unwelcome. We’re a few floors up, and the lights of the city glimmer beneath the balcony.  
  
“Candy, I’m sorry. This is just as much a surprise for me as it is for you,” Lysander closes the door behind us softly. “Rosa didn’t tell me anything.”  
  
When I turn, I look him over properly for the first time. He’s bigger than when I last saw him. His shoulders broad, and arms strong. His hair is shorter, but not by much.  
  
All in all he just looks older, more mature. But in a good way.   
  
I can see the edge of a tattoo peeking out from the neck of his shirt, and I vaguely wonder what it is. Even his style has changed. No longer the Victorian clothes of the past, but a black, wool coat over a simple t-shirt, black, ripped jeans and heavy boots.  
 _  
I suppose there’s no real need for vests and cravats on a farm…_  
  
“It’s fine. I’m sorry for overreacting, I-”  
  
I feel stupid now. My voice comes out thick. My eyes small and swollen from the tears. It’s been years, I’m sure he’s well and truly over it. I’m sure he expects me to be over it too.  
  
“Candy, about last time… I was in a bad place,” His voice is low. It still has that slight rasp it always had, and a fresh tear of pain splits open in my chest, remembering the time when his voice was mine.  
  
Midnight whispers against my skin when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. The way he sang to himself when he was doing chores around the house, which would shift into singing to me when I couldn’t stop myself from distracting him.  
  
I can understand what he’s saying. His parents had died. His life was thrown upside-down. He had a lot of hard decisions to make.  
  
But it had shattered my heart when he broke up with me. And I never recovered from that.  
  
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I… I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”  
  
I nod a little, not quite taking in the words. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like enough to make up for what I’ve been through. For the sleepless nights. For the tears that wouldn’t stop. For constantly questioning what I did wrong, or why I wasn’t enough for him.

I have to remind myself that what he went through was worse. Much worse.  
  
“How’s the farm?” I ask. It’s a dumb question, I know. But the only one I can think of. If we keep going down this path, I’ll only end up crying again.  
  
He rubs a hand over the back of his neck.  
  
“Leigh and I sold it.”  
  
When my eyebrows dip in confusion, he shrugs.  
  
“It was my parents dream, not mine. I tried to make it work, but… it came to a point where I had to let it go and follow my own dreams.”  
  
I’m surprised. I didn’t think he’d ever give it up, it was so important to his family. I don’t really know what to say, so I turn back to the city lights.  
  
“Here, look,” Lysander digs his phone out from his coat pocket and comes up beside me, tapping the screen a couple of times before holding it out. “The place is in good hands.”  
  
I glance over the photo. A girl with bright orange hair fallen in the mud, and a great big smile plastered on her face. My face crumples in confusion.  
  
“Is that… Iris?”  
  
“Yeah, she came to work for me a couple of years ago, and now she’s working with the new owners. Showing them the ropes.”  
  
He speaks fondly of her, and something about the photo twists at my heart. Iris looks happy… _at home_. An image flashes behind my eyes of Lysander offering a hand to help her up, gently wiping the mud from her face, leaning in closer…  
  
“Were the two of you…” It breaks my heart to bring it up, but I have to know. It wouldn’t be that unlikely for the two of them to be together. _Would it?_  
  
He shakes his head. “Iris is a good friend. But no, it wasn’t romantic, if that’s what you’re asking.”  
  
Relief floods through me, but only for a moment. That doesn’t mean that there’s never been anyone else. That there _isn’t_ anyone else.  
  
“So, what are you doing now… without the farm?”  
  
He leans his arms on the rail of the balcony, looking out ahead of him. I can’t stop myself from studying his profile, glancing over his straight nose, his full lips, those beautifully mismatched eyes.  
  
They were once so familiar to me.  
  
“Songwriting. I’ve had multiple songs commissioned already,” He turns to me again. “A few of the tracks on Crowstorms’ new album are mine.”  
  
This part, I’m not surprised at. Music and writing had always been Lysanders’ passion, and the words he wrote were beautiful enough to break anyone’s heart.  
  
Still, I have to ask the question that’s burning on my lips.  
  
“Does this mean you’re moving back to the city?”  
  
His lips quirk a little.The first sign of a smile I’ve seen tonight.  
  
“Already have. I pick up the keys to my new apartment next week.”  
  
I know I shouldn’t let it, but a spark of hope ignites in me. I push it away almost as quickly as it appears.

“Alone?” I ask, needing to confirm it.

Now he _is_ smiling. Amused by the question, no doubt.

“Yes. Alone.”  
  
Relief floods through me, and I look over him again, unable to keep my eyes off him now. He has more ink on his hands. I hadn’t noticed that before. It’s too dark out here to make out what the tattoos are, however.  
  
“I missed you… more than I should have,” He says quietly after a while, continuing to look over the city. “After what I did…”  
  
I can’t speak. Afraid that if I do, I’ll only start sobbing again. Aren’t these the words I wanted to hear a long, long time ago?

 _Aren’t they too late now…_  
  
“I was too afraid to contact you. I thought it was best to let you move on without me,” He shifts uncomfortably, and I’m almost tempted to reach out to him. I stop the thought before it can manifest any further, but I can’t stop the words that fall from my lips.  
  
“I never wanted to move on.”  
  
He shakes his head, and finally, _finally_ , he looks at me. His jaw is flexed in anger that I can tell is directed at himself, and his eyes are shining with unshed tears. Something claws at my chest, begging harder now to reach for him.  
  
“I was such a _fool_ , Candy. I broke the best thing that had ever happened to me…”

My heart beats a thunderous rhythm in my chest, and for a moment I wonder if this is a dream, like all the ones I’ve had before, only to wake up to the bitter disappointment of realizing it’s not real.

But something inside me knows…

This is no dream.  
  
“There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t regretted it,” His eyes are _so hard_ , so full of anger and pain.  
  
My breath sticks in my throat as he steps towards me, his hands reaching out and settling on either side of my arms. A tear falls down his face, followed by a second, and my heart lurches in my chest.  
  
“Can you ever forgive me?”  
  
His voice is so small, so broken, that something inside me crumbles at the sight. Some wall I had kept up, silent and strong, for far too long. It takes me a moment to realize my face is wet with my own tears.  
  
Maybe it’s foolish of me too. Maybe I’m walking the line of giving myself a one way ticket to heartbreak all over again. _But I have to try._  
  
“I can do better than that.”  
  
I tilt my head up and press my lips to his, my tears wet and salty on my skin. He’s still at first, but when he kisses me back, his fingers sliding into my hair and cupping the sides of my face, my heart almost explodes in relief, and joy, and love.   
  
I hear a delighted scream from inside the house, and Lysanders’ lips quirk against mine. All of a sudden I’m laughing far too much to continue kissing him, and instead settle for burying my head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of rosewater and earth.  
  
I’m going to _kill_ Rosalya for springing this on me. But I suppose, I can’t be too mad about it after all…  
  
Lysander pulls me closer to him, enveloping me in his warmth and pressing a kiss to my hair, and I breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. Something clicks into place inside of me, washing away years of pain and torment.  
  
“I’m sorry I took so long,” He whispers against my skin, and when I turn to look up at him he catches my lips with his, and an unmistakable flood of happiness flows through me.

No more shoving painful memories into the back corners of my mind, or falling upon something familiar and having to choke back the hurt. No more crying myself to sleep at night, desperate for a few hours to chase away the exhaustion.  
  
No more being alone, and broken, and unworthy.  
  
Just… _him._


	4. Last Christmas

I hum along to the Christmas song on the radio, browsing through the shelves of the small corner store and picking out a few items that catch my eye.

It’s Christmas Eve and I have the dorm to myself. Picking up a box of chocolates, I shrug as I throw them in my basket. Why shouldn’t I indulge a little?

Finally heading towards the counter, I place my items in front of the cashier. Candy, chocolate, snacks, the latest issue of Vogue. And of course, Christmas Eve wouldn’t be complete without a bottle of champagne.

“Vogue?” An amused chuckle comes from behind me, and my heart tightens in my chest at the familiarity. “I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

When I turn, Rayan Zaidi is watching me, the ghost of a grin lifting his lips.

“Good evening, Candy.”

“Ra- uh, Mr Zaidi. Hi,” I manage dumbly, shaking my head a little to clear the confusion. “Yeah… It’s the only magazine I like.”

I can feel the flush on my face already, but he only smiles at me warmly.

“Fashion is one of the most expressive forms of art,” he says, a dark eyebrow quirking. “I’m impressed. Really.”

“Miss? That’s $32 please.”

“Oh, sorry,” I turn to pay the cashier, and then wait as Rayan pays for his items. We walk out of the store together, and I’m immediately drawn to the sky. The snowfall is heavier now. Tiny snowflakes dance through the air to land on my hair, my nose, my lips.

“Well, I won’t keep you. I’m sure you have people waiting,” Rayan says softly, and I turn away from the snow.

“Actually, I’m all on my own tonight,” I shrug, holding up the champagne. “Hence, this.”

I can’t even say that I mind being on my own, really. It’s a breath of fresh air after classes, my thesis, and… those rumors.

Rayan nods, eyeing the bottle like he understands my meaning perfectly. I’m sure it’s been a trying year for him too. My stomach flutters a little at the thought of our past conversations. At the knowledge that our relationship is something much more, and much stranger than that of student and teacher.

“Well, have a good Christmas… Mr Zaidi.” I say sweetly, tucking my bag under my arm before I end up saying something I probably shouldn’t. I head towards the alley, starting my trek back to campus.

“Candy, wait.”

Rayans voice rings out to me, and I turn to see him hesitating, right in the middle of the street. He pulls his scarf tighter around his neck, warding off the chill in the air.

If I was allowed to, I would think the sight was adorable…

“Maybe you could join me?” He asks, apprehension creeping over his face despite himself. "I have a turkey in the oven. I’ve made far too much food for only one person.“

I look him over. So, he’s alone tonight too? When I say nothing, he offers a brazen smile.

“Since we are friends, after all.”

I can’t stop the grin that breaks across my face, and I step towards him, my eyebrow quirked as I tease.

“I hope you like Pocky and cheap champagne.”

He laughs, a deep rich sound that echoes all around me.

“Love ‘em.”

*  
“What can I help with?” I ask as I hover around the kitchen counter. A stick of Pocky hangs between my teeth as I set a glass of champagne in front of Rayan.

“It’s almost done,” he says, wiping off his hands and taking a sip. “How about changing the record?”

I bounce down from the stool I’d just sat on. He has a record player set up in the open-plan living room, with a rather impressive collection of music. I bend down beside it, flicking through the dozens of records sitting in a crate.

A lot of the singers I don’t know, but I stop when my finger runs over something familiar. Billie Holiday.

Perfect.

“Good choice,” he calls from the kitchen when I’m done setting up the record. The most amazing smell hits me and when I turn to find the source, I see Rayan taking the turkey out of the oven.

I fold my arms across my chest with an amused shake of my head as I watch him. He looks good in a kitchen. Comfortable, somehow. He’s even wearing an apron.

I laugh to myself. He’s such a grown up.

Walking over to the large window on the wall, I gaze out over the streetlights and let myself fall into a fantasy, indulging my imagination. I think of the kind of future I would want for myself. What the next Christmases would bring. A nice house. A husband I could laugh with. Cooking together on Christmas Eve, holiday songs playing softly in the background.

When I turn back to the kitchen, to Rayan, the fantasy is still there. Minus the husband part, of course.

But there’s still him.

He sets the table quickly while I refill our glasses, and we sit down to eat. It looks and smells amazing, and when I take my first bite of turkey I almost sigh at the way it melts in my mouth.

A man who can cook? There’s nothing sexier.

When our plates are empty and the table cleared, we move to the sofa. My head is buzzing a little, a wine glass still poised in my hand. Are we on our second bottle already?

“So, tell me,” I look over at Rayan. At the way he gazes out at the lights beyond the snowfall gathering on the window-sill. “Why are you alone on Christmas?”

“I’m not,” he says with a dark grin, and I roll my eyes before returning the gesture.

“You know what I mean.”

He doesn’t look at me when he answers. Instead, his eyes fall upon a collection of photo frames clustered on the side table. I recognize one of them, and my stomach drops.

“Christmas has always been a difficult time for me. After Chloe…” He trails off, tapping a finger on the arm of the sofa. “I prefer to spend it alone.”

That’s right, I forgot. His wife had died around Christmas.

I lean back against the sofa, taking a deep drink from my glass and feeling like an idiot for my question.

“Dance with me?”

His question catches me off guard, and when I look at him his eyes are on me, and nothing else.

“You really like dancing, don’t you?” I let him take my hand and lead me to the middle of the living room. He looks down at me with a cheeky smile.

“How can you tell?”

“Just a hunch.”

We danced together at the beach, fast and fun. But this is different.

Soft. Slow. His arm around my waist, and his hand in mine. He smells like clean, fresh spice. It’s enough to make my mind cloud over.

A thought poises on my lips. One I wouldn’t voice, usually. But I think the champagne has quite gone to my head.

“You know, maybe if you started dating, you wouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone anymore.“

The sound he lets out is one of surprise, though it almost sounds like a laugh.

“Miss Belfleur seems to like you.”

He shoots me a look. One dark eyebrow quirking.

“Are you trying to give me advice on my love life now?”

I can’t help but blush, looking down. No, I suppose not. The thought of him with someone else makes me feel more than uneasy.

“Anyway… Edie? I don’t like women like her,” he says quietly.

Women like her?

We slowly stop moving, and my eyes are fixed on his. The urge to do something I know I shouldn’t is so strong, my next words come out in a whisper.

"What do you like?”

We both stand there, eyes locked, soft music enveloping us though we’re now standing perfectly still. My breath is shallow. My skin tingles wherever he touches. He drops our hands, but keeps them clasped together.

I know it’s the wine that makes me step closer and tilt my head up. That has me pressing a feather-light kiss to his jaw. He lets loose a soft breath, as still as stone.

“Candy…”

Another kiss, lower this time, his pulse thumping under his skin. His fingertips twitch around my waist, and my breath grows shallow.

“Yes, Rayan?”

He pulls back a little to look at me, hands moving to either side of my arms, keeping me in place.

“That’s not why I invited you here.”

He looks so sincere that I know it’s true. It would have broken my heart if I didn’t know he wanted this as much as I do. I’d figured that much out, at least.

“I know that,” I say, my hands moving to his shoulders, tracing down the front of his chest. Rayan takes my hands in his to stop me, his head bent towards me, and his voice low.

“There are already rumors.”

I shake my head slowly. “I don’t care.”

“You should.”

He’s struggling, I can see it in those green eyes. There’s plenty of reasons why we shouldn’t do this. His job. My education. Just to name the most obvious of them all.

But the one reason that we should is the most compelling one of all.

We want each other. We’re drawn to the other like two sides of a magnet, desperate to find its other half. With Rayan, I wouldn’t have to dream of the future I wanted anymore. It would already be mine.

His hand moves to the side of my face, so warm, and I want all of him against me. I’d do anything for it.

“I think of you, when I’m alone. I think of all the things I want you to do to me,” I say quietly, and his eyes shut tight, fighting against feelings he knows he shouldn’t have.

I trail my fingers over his chest again, and this time, he doesn’t stop me. “I think of where your hands might touch. Of where you would put your lips. Of what you taste like.”

A low growl escapes his throat, and his hands move to my waist, lingering. My lips are so close to his when I speak next, that I know he can feel the warmth of my breath on his.

“Do you think about me too?”

I’m right here, ready to give everything to him. All he has to do it take it. Take it and I’m his. Still, he doesn’t make a move, and my heart shatters a little in my chest.

Maybe I was wrong?

“Do you?” The question leaves my lips again, and his eyes snap to mine so quickly my heart staggers.

I see the moment when defeat crosses his face. When he gives in, and his hands move to the sides of my face, his eyes fierce.

“Every goddamn day.”

His mouth on mine is like a flood. Like the dam that finally broke, unable to hold back any longer. His kiss is rough, desperate, and it steals my breath so hard all I can do is fist my hands in his shirt and hold on.  
My tongue rolls over his and he tastes better than anything I could have ever imagined. His hands tangle in my hair and his voice is a growl against my mouth. And I want more.

“You understand that we’re jeopardizing everything?” He pulls back a little and breathes against my lips, his eyes flicking to mine. “I have to ask… are you sure about this?”

I let out an impatient sound. A click of my tongue. This is the only thing I’ve been sure of in a long time. I’m not letting go of it now.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, my eyes holding his to drive the point home. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

And he does.


	5. Christmas Morning

My eyes crack open slowly. First one, then the other, adjusting to the dusky morning light.  
  
With a low groan, the memory of the day seeps into my mind. _Christmas_. We have my brothers, Alexy and Armin, and their partners coming for lunch, as well as Candy’s parents. She was up half the night preparing everything to be perfect. And it will be. It always is.  
  
I rub at my eyes lazily, looking over at her, fast asleep. A smile curls my lips at the sight. _So perfect. So beautifu_ l. It still amazes me that she’s mine.  
  
We’d gotten closer when I came back to town to visit Alexy. She’d finished University, started a business with her friend in town, and I couldn’t stand being so far away from her.  
  
I was smitten. _Done for._ Falling hard for the first time in my life.  
  
I’d taken a job at the University to be closer to her. Professor of Physical Education. I might act like a cocky son of a bitch at the best of times, but at least I know I don’t deserve her. I never did.  
  
What she sees in me is a fucking mystery.  
  
My fingertips trace her thighs, her skin so soft and pale. Her nightgown is a bare wisp of silk, feather light when I push it up, she might as well not be wearing it at all.  
  
She stirs in her sleep, responding to my touch, and my grin widens. When my lips replace my fingers, she lets out a soft, sleepy moan.  
 _  
“Evan…”_  
  
Slowly, I trail kisses over her thighs, and her legs part for me. She cracks an eye open a little when I hook my fingers in her panties and pull them down, and I can see the ghost of a smile on her lips.  
  
 _So cheeky…_  
  
My mouth teases her, tongue swirling over sensitive skin before I find the sweet spot between her legs, licking her up and down. She lets out a gasp, slowly turning into a moan of pleasure as her body writhes under me softly.  
  
“Evan, _ahh_ ,” she whimpers my name again, clutching my head to her body and throwing her head back.  
  
The sound of my name on her lips does things to me that nothing else can, and having her body begging for me makes it even sweeter. I’m slowly losing control, kissing and nibbling her everywhere, getting drunk on her scent and taste.  
  
I angle an arm underneath her thigh, gripping tight, my mouth making quick work of her. Most of the time I’m rough, hurried, unable to keep my hands off of her for long enough to draw it out.  
  
It doesn’t help that she’s the same way.  
  
Soon she’s panting so fast, I know she’s ready to come undone. I slip a finger inside, pumping in and out as I tongue her clit. She’s so fucking wet I feel her dripping over my hand, and it makes me mad for her.  
  
I keep doing what I’m doing until her body trembles, and then seizes up under me as her orgasm takes hold. She cries out, threading her fingers through my hair as her pleasure hits her and I lick her lazily until her climax has passed.  
  
When she falls back against the bed, breath heavy, I come up next to her, using an arm to prop myself up and look her over.  
  
She smiles up at me, and I take in her flushed cheeks, her eyes still heavy with the remnants sleep. God help me, I’m an absolute fool for this girl. I press my forehead to hers and kiss her gently, my fingers trailing down her neck, her chest…  
  
“Come on, beautiful. Let’s get ready for the day.”  
  
When I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, she snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me back to her.  
  
“Uh uh. Not until I’ve finished having my way with you.”  
  
The words are so fucking sweet on her lips they make me harden against the fabric of my pants, and I know that in this moment, I’d do anything she asked of me.  
  
 _Anything you want, baby._


End file.
